Marathon of Remembrance | "Werkit Out" Wednesday

This Werkit Out Wednesday is a tad different. It's not sharing a workout rather explaining my experience of my first marathon.

I know right?!? A MARATHON? Why Shari? Why?

Shit, I don't know why. I really don't.

But I do know it was an experience that I wanted to share with you. Something so important to me that it took my a while to put my thoughts together to share it RIGHT with you.

The White Sands Missile Training Range Bataan Memorial Death March Memorial Marathon was held on Saint Patrick's Day this year. I put my green beer on ice, as I decided that this marathon would be one of the most important "races" I would "run."

I did it not only to meet the REAL heroes, the survivors. But I also did it to see if I could do it. I now realize I REALLY did it to prove to my children that even though your don't want to do certain things in life, you have to suck it up and do it anyway.

And hell, you might even surprise yourself in the end.

Leading up to the race - I wasn’t as nervous as I thought. People asked me about my thoughts and if I was prepared but I didn’t have any words. I really didn’t have a goal time, I just wanted to survive.

I really didn’t “train” persay for it and I really didn’t know what to look forward to. I know so many badass people who didn’t make the walk. Granted they went in military boots and wearing heavy rucks - but I wasn’t the nervous I am accustomed to.

It was a “will I make it?” Kinda feeling.

I luckily eased conversation with a friend who would be doing it as well into “would you want a walking partner.” And luckily she said yes. I didn’t want her to feel like she HAD to so I had asked what her goal was & when she said to see the survivors and finish... I knew I could ask if she wouldn’t mind a tag along.

As the days ticked by, our two man “team” turned into four of the most awesome people. But honestly, Team RWB Eagles showed up from around the country and we had THE BEST showing of support out there.

I was so ready to get sunburned and sweating my butt off, but it snowed the day prior to race day.

Like what the what?!

Now I had to rethink how I was going to pack my bag. I originally only was going to pack water, socks, sun screen, and my hat with a few snacks. Now I was packing gloves, a knit hat, my jacket... etc. I was freaking out.

I wanted to run/walk the course but now my pack was fluffier and heavier.

Thanks Mother Nature.

In the end, I carried way more than I really needed to. I had a first aid kit, mole skin, more socks and snacks then needed, but I guess better to have and not need than not have and need?

I had heard so much about meeting the survivors of the real death march so I was so excited to see these heroes. I wait through the ceremony and when the canon went off we began to shuffle out the gates, but no survivors.

I was incredibly disappointed.

I wanted to shake their hands and I wanted to thank them. But no survivor was to be seen. As we were herded down the road, I did pass a few wounded veterans as well as meeting them again further down the trail. But no Bataan survivors to thank, the whole reason why I wanted to do this memorial challenge.

We hit the dirt path and my frustration melted away knowing that I had a long journey ahead of me and I was still doing this for all the fallen heroes who can’t any longer. Our four man, makeshift team was in good spirits.

The sun was beginning to hit the horizon and the colors painted the sky orange, red and purple. The jagged mountains in the background were gorgeous with the early morning sun hitting them and the snow capes tips glistening. It truly was a sight and I kept kicking myself for not bringing my REAL camera.

Shit - I was carrying everything else in my bag, why no my big camera? My iPhone was going to have to do.

We continued up and down the dirt pathway. Sharing stories and laughs. We jogged a little. We walked a little. We didn’t have a goal to hit, we just wanted to complete the challenge. We passed an amputee and we were silent as we had just been complaining about our knees hurting.

We stopped at many water/aide stations to grab snacks, water, gatorade, use the bathroom and rest just a tad. The asphalt up a long, gradual hill nearly claimed my motivation, especially since my team were “angry walking” faster and faster! Haha! I’m a slow walker - that’s for sure. But then a man with a speaker playing 90s music danced up next to us and gave me my motivation back.

Yes - I screenshot the watermarked image. Thank you Marathon Foto, you guys are
some of the real MVPs of the day.

We climbed higher and higher, turning back into a dirt path and the snow became more present.

 

The yellow, desert poppies were in full bloom, popping up out the snow covered desert. A Blackhawk (medical) flew over by and wondered why my ride left me behind - I kid.

I’m a sucker for aircraft!

The Border Patrol on their horses looked so majestic in the poppy fields.

It’s amazing the people who came out (voluntold or not) to ensure our safety. The Border Patrol, the Soldiers/airmen, the military police and the many others I didn’t recognize. The volunteers at the water/aide stations were amazing, Smiling and cheering us on even tho I was one of 30,000 people they’ve seen and would see throughout the day.

When we hit mile 14, a water station with burgers and dancing volunteers continued to cheer us on. People stopped to enjoy food but we didn’t. We weren’t feeling food - but I did stop to change my socks. The first time since I started.

One tip I was given by many Bataan finishers was bring lots of socks. I packed 6 and had plans on changing them often... but only changed at mile 14 and honestly - didn’t need to. But I was also wearing trail running shoes and not boots. Which, I believe, saved my feet. I did have a few hotspots on the ball of my left foot so, it’s possible the sock changed saved it from becoming anything more.

Mile 17 crept on us and my heart began to pound. Only once before did I ever walk more than 17 miles. And it was 18 miles. For the army. In uniform and boots. With a pack on my back. It was for the German Armed Forces Badge that I so desperately wanted to get silver in.

We hit mile 18 and we continued on. The unknown was ahead of me. Would I make the entire 26.2 miles (and a tad more)? I had no clue. I hadn’t ever walked further than 18 miles in my entire life. I never wanted to. I mean who actually WANTS to? A marathon was never in the books for me. Never on a check list. Never had crossed my mind.

But I made it to mile 19 - and get this, my feet didn’t fall off. Mile 20, mile 22.... I was still moving. I hurt. But I was still moving. By this point we weren’t running anymore. We had hit loose sand and my mind began to play tricks on me. My back hurt. My knees were aching and my buddy and I had stopped talking. It was getting hot - despite the snow we had seen higher up.

The loop of trail and sand heading back to the asphalt hill just seemed to last forever. We kept playing leapfrog with another pair of walkers and we’d share a few words of humor or anguish...then continue on our way.

At mile 23, we finally hit the asphalt again and it was all downhill back to the finish line - now remember, my GPS tracking watch had died at mile 10. I was purely going off of the signage and my partner’s watch. She said mile 23 and all I kept telling myself was just a 5k to go.

Just the Fort Bliss parade field loop left (where I run with my stroller pushing momma friends).

Mile 24 seemed to last forever as we caught up with some of the half marathon wounded warriors, but was very humbling. Here I am, complaining about my back and my knees hurting and aching - and a hero who’s lost two legs in combat is walking thru the sand with his team because he can no longer pedal his hand crank bike. His team members steadied him as he slowly and wobbly took each step by step thru the sand.

His service dog ran ahead of us, living the life in the gorgeous day. She was smiling, tongue dangling as she ensured the trail ahead was clear for her best friend.

Mile 25 finally appeared and my partner forced encouraged me to run the final mile. She was ahead of me and continued to push me to the finish line.

And then I heard it, “There’s mom!” “Go SHARI!”

My family was waiting for me at the finish line. Camera in hand, cheering me on. I heard my name a few other places as I ran the final distance to the line.

My teammates (Team RWB), my friends and my family all get credit for getting me to that finish line.

At the end, I was congratulated by a medal. Something I didn’t think I was going to get. In the past, no medals were given to the finishers. It wasn’t about the medal - it was about honoring the heroes’ who endured hell. But today, they gave medals to all of us finishers.

And guys, I couldn’t even put it on my neck for at least 30 minutes. It felt heavy - not only in weight but in doubt of ownership.

Bataan (the REAL Bataan) has so much disparity tied to it. Many American and Philippino soldiers died as they walked miles upon miles - not knowing when they’d finish. Not knowing where they were headed (evidently to another prisoner of war camp).

They didn’t know what awaited them.

They endured harassment, abuse, and illness trying not to be the one who was too slow and end up being shot to death.

I at least knew it was 26 miles. I knew I’d get a beer and burger at the end. I knew I’d be going home at the end.

This is what it's about, a true survivor finishing the honor half marathon memoriam walk.

I finally put the medal around my neck. I felt proud to have accomplish my longest run/hike ever. I felt love as my family congratulated me. I felt good. I didn’t have blisters. I had made it.

I came in at 7 hours and 3 minutes. I finish 218 out of 976 finishers. Just to bring light of the difficulty and the difference between participant and finisher ... we started off with 1236 in my category. (There were 8688 total participants this year)

Yeah.

Is it something I'll do again?

Nope.

But I did it. And I whole-heartedly encourage anyone to attempt the march as well: it’s humbling. It’s exciting. It’s a gorgeous trail. And it’s satisfying.

Do it.

But be prepared. I definitely packed way too much stuff. But I’m glad I had the stuff than not to have it.

I had packed 6 extra socks and used 1. I had packed a first aide kit, but didn’t need it. I brought lots of snacks but only ate my gummy energy blocks. I packed hydration and energy tablets - and used one. I had a scarf, head wrap thing and never had to use it to protect me from wind or dust - but it came in hand protecting my neck from the sun.

If you've never done a half marathon before, I highly encourage you to do so before tackling this monster of a challenge ... and most definitely run miles on dirt/sand/gravel. Go for a hike up some trails that have elevation changes. Run hills ... this is one thing I absolutely hate but wish I had done. Be prepared for weather changes ... so train in shorts/pants/capris/hats/gloves/tanks etc. One huge rule for all runners is that you train as you race. Don't change up anything race day.

Most of all, find people who will support you along the way. Whether it was an early morning text from a friend saying, "You've got this!" or "Breath, you'll do fine." To a walk/run buddy to chat with. There was the camaraderie of my Team RWB and of course, my family and supporters waiting for me at the finish line. 

You really can't succeed this challenge without support.

Even though this wasn't on my bucket list, it is now scribbled onto it and SCRATCHED out. Because I'm never doing another Marathon again! 

What is something you said you'd never do, but did and ended up learning from it??

Oh, and if you're wondering - yes, us Irish folk did get our St. Paddy's Day beers and celebrated the holiday in good old fashion glory ... at the bar.